


Hands

by ravensurana



Series: Take Me By The Hand [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: ASL, Amaya knows what she wants, Canon Compliant, Deaf Character, F/F, Janai is a useless lesbian, Slow Burn, actually KSL, enemies to friends to ???, the end of this fic is where my beta reader started yelling 'now kiss' at them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensurana/pseuds/ravensurana
Summary: Janai should know by now that Amaya is too stubborn to go to the healers. She'll just have to take things into her own hands.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Take Me By The Hand [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620031
Comments: 11
Kudos: 188





	Hands

Janai let out an exhausted breath, wiping sweat from her forehead as she looked across the battlefield. At long last, the living had all been accounted for. Her surviving soldiers, and those of the two human child monarchs, were being ferried to the Storm Spire by grateful dragons. Medics tended to the most gravely wounded, and the few remaining creatures from Viren's army had been led away in shackles to await sentencing.

_If such a fate can even be applied to them,_ Janai thought, feeling ill. To see the Sun's gifts so warped and twisted, dark magic robbing its victims of rational thought....

And... Viren had yet to be found. His young mage-lieutenant was not among the dead, nor the prisoners. The power they had stolen from her people was still in their grasp, and Janai's heart was heavy with the knowledge that this battle may have been won, but the war was only just beginning.

Janai looked across the scorched earth, at the distant forms of elves and humans gathering their dead, and bowed her head in weary grief.

How long would it be before she could truly mourn her sister?

The flap of huge wings sounded from behind her, cut short by a deep thud and the scratch of claws in dirt. Still, Janai didn't look up, not even as someone approached with the clank of armor, their gait heavy with weariness.

A gentle tap to her shoulder, and Janai started--she knew of only one person who would get her attention like this.

She turned to see General Amaya standing beside her, and found herself looking the woman over, seeking out injuries. A bruise darkened the sharp line of Amaya’s jaw, and the shock of hair swept across her forehead hung limp and tangled, heavy with sweat. Still, Janai saw no blood, no open wounds. Despite herself--despite _everything_ \--the sight warmed her. Amaya had been a worthy opponent, and... and Janai knew, by now, that she was also a worthy ally.

Perhaps... perhaps even a friend.

“ _Gathering in Spire,_ ” Amaya signed, the motions not as fluid as before. She looked exhausted, her brow lined, her brilliant eyes dulled. “ _Dragon will take us up._ ”

Janai watched her fingers move, spelling out words letter by letter, and could not help but recall the strategy meeting before the battle this morning. Where Amaya had outlined her plan with hands that danced and flew, putting her entire body into the words. This way of speaking must be so stifling, after that fluid grace. Why had she not brought one of her friends with her to translate for Janai, so Amaya did not have to temper herself?

_And... how long would it take_ me _to learn enough so that I could begin to understand her?_

Lost in thought, Janai almost missed the flash of pain that crossed Amaya's face, the way she clutched at her left side. Alarmed, Janai turned to face Amaya, catching her gaze. "You _were_ injured in the battle," Janai said, recalling that moment when Amaya had been thrown from her place in the shield-wall by the transformed human prince. The surge of fear, the rage that someone had dared harm the woman. "Have the medics seen to you?"

Amaya shook her head, pinching her first two fingers to her thumb. "No. _Others injured worse,_ " she insisted, her drawn-down brows making her look stern and grave.

Biting back frustration, Janai let out a long breath. She knew Amaya was right, but it still pained _Janai_ somehow to see Amaya's expressive motions so constrained. "At least let me take a look," Janai said, surprising herself with the offer. "I have experience in battlefield medicine."

Amaya shot Janai a long, piercing look, then shifted her attention. Janai glanced over to see a dragon still waiting patiently for the two of them. "Should I--" she asked, and Amaya tipped her head pointedly toward the dragon, fist bobbing twice.

"Come back for us, please," Janai told the dragon, who ducked their head and lifted from the ground with a grunt of effort, swooping around to pick up another group of stragglers in the distance.

Grateful that the dragon hadn’t argued with her, Janai led Amaya to a shadowed corner of rock at the base of the Spire. Hesitantly, she rested her fingertips on one of the buckles holding Amaya’s scorched breastplate in place. Meeting Amaya’s gaze, Janai raised one eyebrow, requesting permission.

Amaya nodded. Janai undid the fastenings, setting the metal aside, then did the same for the pauldrons and vambraces. The padded jacket beneath was soaked with sweat, and Amaya glanced down at herself with a grimace, waving one hand before her nose and offering Janai a wry, apologetic smile.

Janai huffed a laugh. "I've smelled worse," she said. "I used to have to muck out the royal stables whenever I misbehaved. Apparently shoveling dung ‘builds character’." 

Warmed by Amaya’s lopsided grin, she placed one hand on Amaya's left side, pressing gently. About halfway down, Amaya hissed in pain, flinching from Janai's touch. "There--" she began, then remembered to angle her face toward Amaya, "you might have broken ribs. I was afraid of that."

"Me, too," Amaya signed, tipping the thumb of a letter Y toward herself. Her face was weary with resignation. She unfastened the jacket and reached to tug it from her shoulders. Winced again.

"Let me," Janai said hurriedly. Amaya sat back, watching intently as Janai carefully rolled back the heavy fabric, sliding it down Amaya's arms. One glove caught in the jacket’s sleeve. Janai extricated it, peeled the other from Amaya’s hand, and set the whole lot aside.

Janai turned her attention to Amaya then, and bit her lip, breath catching in her throat. Bruises, both fresh and healing, mottled Amaya’s torso. Patches of yellow and purple painted across skin and muscle, disappearing beneath a breastband only to emerge on the other side.

_She was caught in the explosion at the Breach, too,_ Janai thought, guilt prickling at her heart, _but she hides it so well._ She resisted, with difficulty, the urge to brush her fingers along a healing scrape just above Amaya’s hipbone, and her gaze lingered on a deep gash cut into the flesh of one bicep. It would scar, Janai knew, but Amaya didn’t seem to care. What was one more scar, added to the constellations of thin white lines already decorating her shoulders, her sides, the backs of her hands?

Tearing her gaze from the half-healed wound, Janai dipped into the pouch onto her belt, came out with a roll of bandages and a handful of leaves. "These will help with the pain," she told Amaya, holding them up, then reached for the most bruised area, deep reds showing where Amaya had bled beneath her skin.

Janai felt along Amaya's ribs as gently as possible, probing for a break. Amaya leaned back against the rock, jaw set, eyes squeezed shut. Janai felt no protrusions, no jagged edges; the ribs were cracked, perhaps, but she thought Amaya should be in no danger of perforated organs or further internal bleeding. _Good,_ she thought, exhaling hard, startled at the depth of her worry now that it was beginning to ebb.

She placed a leaf directly against the skin, then another, covering the deepest bruises. Wrapped a length of bandage around them to hold them in place, tied the ends securely and tucked them under. Amaya's skin was soft beneath her fingertips, cool to the touch--or was it just that her own hands were warm? Either way, she rested one palm against the bandages, hoping to help ease some of the pain.

Amaya's side shivered beneath Janai’s fingertips, and Janai glanced up to see Amaya’s lips twitching up despite the pain still etched into her features. Her stifled laugh brushed across Janai’s cheek.

"Oh--sorry," Janai said, then realized Amaya couldn't see her. With one last look at Amaya’s injuries, Janai swallowed hard and retrieved the jacket. Amaya had escaped relatively unscathed, considering their odds in the battle--yet Janai felt genuine concern for her. Distress, even, at the mere thought of anything harming Amaya.

Janai forced her attention back to the matter at hand, leaving the thought to be examined later. She tapped Amaya on one well-muscled forearm, prompting her to crack one eye open. Glancing deliberately at Amaya’s bare arms, Janai held up the jacket and gave it a shake. 

Amaya nodded and rolled her shoulders. Her joints popped loud in the stillness, making Janai flinch. One hand smoothed over the bandages, and a smile quirked Amaya’s lips. " _Not bad,_ " she signed, making Janai laugh.

"I did my best," Janai said, unable to keep from smiling. Amaya held out her left arm, allowing Janai to slide the heavy jacket sleeve back over her skin, then tugged the right side on herself.

Amaya reached for the gloves, which had fallen to the side when Janai picked up her jacket, but the motion must have jarred her ribs. She paled, then settled back, glancing between the gloves and Janai. "Please," Amaya signed, palm circling on her chest. One of the signs she’d taught Janai on the journey to the Spire. 

Janai nodded and retrieved the gloves, her gaze caught by the exquisite stitching. They were obviously tailored to Amaya’s hands, to protect her fingers without impeding their motion. Janai turned the gloves over, soft leather against her skin--and halted as a rough patch met her fingertips. She’d felt nothing of the sort any of the times Amaya had taken her hand.

She held up the right glove, squinting in the gloom. Her thumb brushed across cracked leather, dry and charred, parts of the palm entirely burnt through.

The sight stole the breath from Janai's lungs, a terrible suspicion brewing within her. She reached for Amaya's hand, hoping this wasn't as rude as placing a hand over someone's mouth. Amaya sighed, turning her face deliberately away as Janai caught sight of Amaya's right palm, the skin flushed an angry red, blisters forming in the lines etched there.

Amaya had been signing primarily with her right hand back in Lux Aurea. Back before she'd stopped Janai from running after Viren.

She'd taught Janai with her left.

_I burned her,_ Janai thought, horror thumping in her heart, guilt aching in her bones. _And… and she knew it. She must have known I would burn her, but she held on anyway. Held me back._

Dizziness threatened to overwhelm her. Amaya had halted Janai’s suicidal charge, willing to sacrifice her voice to keep Janai safe. Amaya could have been blinded when she looked into the Light--but she’d trusted Janai and looked anyway.

Janai could have killed Amaya at the Breach, and still Amaya had saved her life.

_And what have I done, to deserve such compassion? Such trust?_

Janai tried to catch Amaya's gaze, to ask why she hadn't mentioned the injury, but Amaya looked stubbornly to her left, a gesture that cut off the discussion as effectively as though she’d walked away. Janai didn’t know whether the woman expected a lecture or an apology, but she was apparently in no mood to tolerate either.

Letting out a trembling breath, Janai sat back, her mind racing--she couldn't bandage Amaya's hand, not without impeding her voice further. Janai had no creams, no ointments, and there were likely others among the soldiers who would need treatment for burns worse than these. _What can I do to help her?_ she thought, Amaya's hand still held lightly in her own.

_Is it even my place to wish to help her?_

The moment stretched long. Amaya would not look at Janai. Janai would not let go.

Amaya’s jaw clenched and unclenched, left hand twitching as though caught in some internal debate. At last she sighed, turning her face back toward Janai--though she didn’t pull her hand away. " _No. Regrets,_ " she signed, the words emphatic as a shout. " _It will heal. Didn't want you hurt._ " She grimaced. "Not more."

Janai hesitated for a bare moment, feeling as though she were perched atop a precipice. Her next words might tip her from the edge, might change everything she thought she’d known about her world--

But somehow, it felt like the easiest thing she’d ever done to take the plunge.

"I... don't want to see you hurt, either," she admitted, mouthing the words. They were for Amaya alone to understand.

Amaya's eyes widened, the stern expression fading from her face, and a slow smile stretched her mouth, warming Janai like sunlight. "Thank you," Amaya signed, one hand to her chin, then gesturing to Janai--but she placed her fingers higher than she had when she'd taught Janai this sign, brushing deliberately against her lips, making the motion look almost like--

It was Janai's turn for her eyes to widen, Janai's turn to glance away from the conversation, her cheeks so warm she thought they might be glowing in the shadowed recess of the rocks. Amaya laughed, all but soundless, and when Janai looked up, it was to see her eyes sparkling, glimmering embers in the low light.

"You’re teasing me," Janai accused, a smile tugging at her mouth despite her every attempt to keep her face serious.

Amaya shrugged, blinking innocently--though the corner of her lips, too, twitched with suppressed laughter. " _Dragon returns soon,_ " she signed, deliberately casual.

Janai glanced toward the sky, disappointment furrowing her brow at the reminder that this little bubble of private time, away from the responsibilities they both held, could not last much longer. Amaya reached for her gloves, and Janai handed them over with slow reluctance, her fingertips lingering on Amaya's.

She wished they had more time together. There was so much she wished to ask Amaya, so much she wanted to learn from her. So much Janai wanted to _tell_ her, about Lux Aurea, about Xadia. About Janai herself, her past. About Khessa.

Amaya tapped Janai’s arm, glancing aside at the armor still stacked beside them. "Please," she asked, this time with her right hand.

Janai blinked, torn from contemplation. She reached hastily for the armor, pulled it closer, lifted the breastplate--and set it back down, realizing she’d forgotten to fasten Amaya’s jacket first.

The fabric parted as Amaya shifted, exposing the line of her throat. Janai’s eyes widened. Her hand rose toward Amaya, trembling--

Janai arrested the motion, the thought, before anything could come of it. She’d imprisoned Amaya not a week ago, and had no idea where the lines between them still lay. She’d already pushed Amaya’s boundaries enough this afternoon.

Amaya’s head tilted. She looked at Janai’s hand, held in place between them, then glanced down at herself.

Something lit deep within her gaze, smouldering. Her smile took on a wicked glint as she met Janai’s eyes again, one eyebrow rising in a clear invitation.

Janai felt a jolt, as though Amaya’s permission had snapped something held tight within her. She couldn’t help but follow that glance, her breath catching for an entirely different reason this time. Janai was abruptly aware of just how much she’d been concentrating on seeing Amaya as a prisoner, a soldier, a _human_ , instead of just a woman. A woman who sat unabashed before Janai, soft skin exposed to the cool air. To Janai’s warm gaze.

Amaya shivered, impossibly soft, a thrilling contrast from the hard lines she presented to everyone else. Each subtle movement caught Janai’s attention anew, stoking the flames slowly kindling beneath her skin. Amaya’s chest shifted with every uneven breath--they came shorter now, sharper. A flush painted slowly down her neck, across her shoulders.

Janai’s hand twitched, her mouth dry with the desire to tug the cloth aside again, to explore the line of Amaya’s collarbone and the curve of her stomach, to map out the patterns of her scars. To press her fingertips against Amaya’s throat and feel her pulse fluttering like wings.

Instead, still far too aware of the distance between them, Janai rested her hand on the jacket's clasp. She made no motion, however, to close the fabric over pale skin and lean muscle. _May I?_ she asked with widened eyes and upturned lips, with the angle of her shoulders and a shakily inhaled breath.

Amaya reached up, resting her own hand upon Janai's, and Janai thought she'd never seen anything more glorious than the smile crinkling Amaya's eyes.

She cupped Janai’s cheek in her other hand--her burned hand-- with a touch light as gossamer. Janai shivered, eyelids fluttering as Amaya’s thumb stroked across her chin, just shy of her bottom lip. It almost hurt when Amaya pulled away. Pressed her hand against Janai’s shoulder, gentle but firm. Amaya’s gaze flicked upward, an apologetic cast to the twist of her lips.

"Not now," Janai understood. She breathed in deep, aching in a way that had nothing to do with the battle.

Her breath caught when Amaya met her eyes again.

Amaya brought her hand up, pressing her thumb against her shoulder. She tilted her fingertips forward, pointing past Janai, though her gaze didn’t leave Janai’s.

Understanding dawned in a rush that left Janai tingling. "Not now, but _later_."

The _thump_ of a dragon landing behind Janai cut short this conversation, but even as Janai hurriedly fastened the buckles on Amaya's breastplate, she knew that it was far from over. They would be working together for a long while yet. Merging their armies, tracking down Viren’s daughter. More than enough time to pick up where they’d left off. 

Amaya's hand was strong in hers as Janai tugged her up onto the dragon's back. Her weight settled, warm and solid, against Janai’s back. The dragon crouched, ready to launch, and Amaya wrapped her arms around Janai--the motion slow, with a lingering sense of promise. 

_I'm here, and I'm not leaving._

**Author's Note:**

> Edited this while listening to Touch by Troye Sivan on repeat.


End file.
